Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guatemala and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Deakin to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
Chris Corsano,
Terry Callier,
Boredoms,
Cameo,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
T. Rex,
Television,
Subhumans,
Harry Pussy,
The Sound,
Inner City,
Altered Images,
The Kinks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dead Boys,
Rapeman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultravox,
ABC,
The Techniques,
Joe Smooth,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Flag,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
Sandy B,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Leaves,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Cal Tjader,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
Ten City,
Sonic Youth,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Graham Central Station,
Minutemen,
Visage,
Black Pus,
Blake Baxter,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.